


My Soul Glows

by orphan_account



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Coffee Shop, Fluff, M/M, slightest bit of homophobia but barely, this is kinda dumb but ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 10:59:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8709802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Stupid, stupid, stupid.





	

It had been a long day. Being a shy, young person in an office building full of authoritative adults (how did they always know what they were doing?) was quite stressful. I could feel my tiredness in bones, I could feel it dragging my face down, I could feel it in the way people stared at me, thinking _wow, that guy’s having a bad day._ After finally making it through the agonizing work day, I thought I’d reward myself for not having a mental breakdown with a relaxing coffee from my favorite local coffee shop.

Upon walking in, I heard the familiar chime from the bell above the door. Immediately, the warm smell of coffee hit me, and I felt relaxed already. Walking up to the counter, I was quite surprised to see a new barista. I had been coming here for ages, they never seemed to hire anyone new. But apparently, something changed, because there you were. There you were, looking at me with the deepest, most beautiful eyes and brightest, biggest, most perfect smile I had ever seen. And what did I do? I froze. I froze at your beauty.

Quickly, I composed myself, and when I realized you were the only barista working there that day I figured that I either had to man up and talk to you or just leave. So, being the smooth guy that I am, I decided to leave.

I left, but not before catching your confused expression on the way out. And honestly? I didn’t blame you.

I walked home, chiding myself the whole way. Constant mantras of _Why didn’t you say anything? He was hot! You ruined your chance! Stupid, stupid stupid._ I shook my head to clear these thoughts. By the time I had arrived home I was so ready to just disappear into my covers and wallow in my self-pity for my shy, embarrassing personality.

That night in the shower, I made a promise to myself, that I would go back the next day at the same time and talk to you. Okay, maybe just start with ordering a drink before starting an _actual_ conversation, but baby steps, right?

So, as planned, I struggled through another day of a twenty five year old at a forty five year old’s workplace and dragged myself to the coffee shop. I hesitated outside the door, half hoping you were there so that I could see you again, half hoping you weren’t there so I wouldn’t have the opportunity of embarrassing myself again. But, in I went, and there you were. And this time, there were other customers, so you hadn’t looked at me yet. Thank God. I took this opportunity to shuffle over to the counter, and when you did make a brief glance at me, you looked away almost instantly. I was slightly saddened, until you did a double take, seeming to notice that it was me, and shot me a sly smirk. The blush on my face was visible from outer space, I was pretty sure.

When the other customers got their drinks and left, it was down to just you and me.

“Hey you, you’re back,” you beamed at me. My blush exploded further. _Oh no what am I supposed to say I can’t believe he’s talking to me why did I do this._

“Huh-oh. Haha, yeah, it’s-it’s me. I’m uh...I’m back,” I stammered, internally cringing for my shyness. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ And yet, you didn’t seem deterred. In fact, you shot me another smirk. Did you know how much you were tearing me up inside?

“What can I get you?” You asked. I stared. I studied. I studied your eyes, the way the brown caught the sunlight streaming in from the large windows behind me. I used to think brown eyes were dull. Why did I think that? I studied your lips, your dyed hair, your bright tattoos on display. I made quick work to mentally questioning what they could mean. _A tree? Maybe he loves nature._

“Hello? Anyone home?” I snapped out of my trance to see a concerned look on your face. I felt the familiar burn in my cheeks again as I mumbled an apology and finally ordered my drink.

“Will that be all?” _That and your number, please._

“Uh yeah. That’s all.” Fully expecting you to want nothing to do with me anymore, I began to leave. However, you appeared to have something else in mind.

“So how come you came in here and left like that yesterday?”

“What?” I blinked. Of course you noticed me. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

“I said-”

“No. No, wait, I mean- yes,” I shook my head. _Words, Tyler._ “I heard you. I... I don’t know, I decided I didn’t want coffee after all?” It came out as more of a question, but it was the best excuse I could think of. For some reason, I figured that ‘oh, I just have a cripplingly awkward personality, and I was so stunned by your beauty I didn’t know how to function, so I left and cried about it’ wouldn’t have been the best answer.

“So, you came all the way here, and then just decided that you didn’t even want anything anyway?”

“Yeah...”

“Right. Sure.” That smirk again. Too embarrassed to say anything further, I thanked you for my drink, and left. I looked back briefly, and I saw that you still had that smirk on your face, but your eyes weren’t meeting mine; they were on my back, but somewhere . . . lower. Blushing profusely again, I decided to get out as quickly as I could.

Giddily, I strolled home, and I couldn’t get your stupid smirk and your stupid apron and your stupid voice out of my head. _Stupid, stupid stupid._ But, at least I had gone through with my promise to myself. For the rest of the night I couldn’t forget your smile. But then I realized it wasn’t actually something I wanted to forget.

* * *

I went back to the coffee shop the next day, hoping to see you again. And I was elated the moment I did. As soon as I caught your eye, you smiled brightly at me, all teeth and squinting eyes. I shyly smiled back, still not feeling that confident around you. Or anyone, for that matter.

“Did you miss me that much?” You asked, with a faux-cocky tone. I blushed, but tried to play it off by playfully rolling my eyes.

“You’re cute when you blush. You’re cute all the time, actually.” I was stunned. _How could this barista I had one previous interaction with be actually flirting with me? What were the odds that you were even into boys!_

Following my usual manner of awkward mumbling and stuttering, I ordered the same thing I had the day before. However this time, you asked for my name, since there were other people in the store today. I mentally scolded myself for jumping to the conclusion that you were asking for it because you actually wanted to know me, but I realized it was only for the order. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

“Tyler,” I said shortly.

“Beautiful,” you seemed to say under your breath. Mostly to yourself. I bit my lip, suppressing a giggle.

As you wrote my name on the cup, my eyes drifted to your (incredibly toned) chest to read your nametag. _Josh, huh?_ _Cute name. Cute boy._

By the time I looked up, you were giving me my drink, accompanied by that same smirk from the day before. The smirk that said _I know you were just checking me out_.

“Here you go, _Tyler_.” My name sounded perfect coming from your pretty mouth. I shyly thanked you and left.

On my way home, I glanced down at my cup and nearly choked on my drink from what I saw. Scrawled next to my name was a phone number. Your phone number, I presumed. There was no way. There was simply no way this boy, this beautiful punk, outgoing barista was actually trying to hit on me. But you _were_ , and that time, I let myself giggle about it.

I had planned to text you that night, but I promptly fell asleep as soon as I got home. So much for that.

I had planned to text you the next morning, but I overslept and barely made it to work on time. So much for that.

I figured I would just talk to you in person after work. Talking in person is much better than talking over text, after all. But then I remembered I couldn’t return to the coffee shop the next day. I had promised my parents that I would have dinner at their house. So after my miserable day of work and my miserable walk home (without coffee _or_ an interaction with a cute barista) I made my way to my parents’ house. The night went fine, you were on my mind the whole time.

“So Tyler, do you have a boyfriend?” My cheeks flared up at this.

“N-no, mom. I told you I don’t have time.” Her face said she knew something was up. But, bless her, her mouth said nothing

But there really _was_ nothing. I _didn’t_ have a boyfriend, I didn’t even text you. But I wished I did. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

* * *

 

That was why the next day, I marched right into that coffee shop after work to see you. But you didn’t give me your usual bright smile, or even your cocky, lop-sided smirk. No, not this time. This time, you seemed almost shy and apprehensive when I walked up to you. _What is this?_ I’m _always the shy one._

“Hey,” I started.

“Uh, hey Tyler. Look- sorry if the number thing was too forward, I just think you’re cute and saw the way you always blushed at what I said and- oh God, you’re probably not even gay I’m sorry I don’t-”

“Josh,” I cut you off with a smile. You looked at me. “If anything, _I’m_ sorry I never texted you. I just got really busy.” I watched you breathe out a visible sigh of relief. “And...I think you’re really cute too,” I could feel my shyness creeping back into me. So much for that burst of confidence.

“Oh, really?” You asked, nervous eyes and so beautifully bitten lip replaced with that cocky smirk, head tilted. I shyly looked away, looking back up when you laughed. But it wasn’t a cruel laugh, it was an airy, friendly one. _I could get used to that sound._

“Hey, why don’t I take my break now and we can sit down together?” You offered.

“That sounds great.”

And so we sat down together, and talked and talked, and you told me about yourself, and I told you about myself, and I felt a connection. As cliche as that sounds, I felt it. And I went home that night, well after the store was supposed to close, hoping to God you felt it too.

* * *

 

The next morning was a Saturday, and I was free all day. I decided to be brave and text you.

 

**hey josh! I had a great time talking last night and i was wondering if you wanted to hang out today if you’re free?**

 

**yeah for sure! meet me at the park in an hour?**

 

After sending you my confirmation for the time and place, I set out to get ready. I left right on time, but it seemed I arrived before you did. I was getting worried you had stood me up until I felt a pair of strong hands on my shoulders and a loud yell of “BOO!” directly in my ear. I jumped, startled, to see your beautiful face, and hear your beautiful laugh. I lightly smacked you on your (once again, incredibly toned) chest.

“Come on, let’s walk around,” you suggested as you nudged my shoulder lightly.

And so we walked and talked for hours again until we got hungry and decided to stop for some food. You paid for mine, despite my protests. I couldn’t help but feel like this was a date. By the time we had to say our goodbyes, it was nearly dark.

Upon returning home, I instantly laid back on my bed with the dumbest grin on my face, thinking about how perfect the day had gone. I was about ready to fall asleep, when my phone went off with a notification.

 

**Hey ty, I had a really great time tonight. I really like being around you**

 

**I feel the same way:)**

Definitely a date.

* * *

 

This went on for a few weeks, flirty interactions at the coffee counter, even flirtier texts, and the flirtiest conversations during our many _many_ ‘hang outs’- whether they were at the coffee shop, the movies, my apartment or yours. There was plenty of smirking, and plenty of blushing, but neither of us ever called them ‘dates.’

 

Once, as we laid on my couch watching a movie, sitting much closer than just-friends do, you turned to look at me. I looked too.

“Hey Ty?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Plain and simple. Why couldn’t I have been blessed with the same confidence you were?

Instead of answering vocally, I leaned over and kissed you. Hard. I poured all my passion and love for you into the kiss, and once you got over your initial shock, you smiled and did the same.

“So I’ll take that as a yes?” You asked once I pulled away, grinning like an idiot.

“That’s a yes.” I confirmed. Relief.

You stayed over that night. We didn’t sleep together, we just slept. Together. Cuddled together in hoodies and sweatpants, we fell asleep comfortably holding hands, like the saps we were.

The next morning was just full of soft touches. Hands roaming chests, hips, legs, everywhere. Full of pancakes we cooked together and coffee. Full of whispers and low voices that meant nothing and everything. Full of smiles and deep kisses, and the realization that _oh my gosh, I can do this now. I am his and he is mine_. Pure bliss.

I feared that one day that bliss would fade, as people made it seem like it would, but truthfully, it never did. It never faded because you made my workdays less dreadful, just by sending me texts that let me know how soon we could see each other again. It never faded because I got to visit you at your work, everyday after my work, and quickly peck your lips that tasted like to coffee you drank way, _way_ too much of.

One night, after your shift at the coffee shop, we decided that we would go back to your apartment for dinner, after you promised me you could make me something good. And even though you set off the smoke alarms when you burned the stir fry and we had to just order in Chinese instead, it was still perfect, and it still felt like home.

That night, several months into our relationship, we made love for the first time. It was sweet and slow and passionate, and the ultimate declaration of our love. It was gentle and goofy and full of smiles and giggles, and we didn’t take ourselves too seriously. It was a promise to hold each other sacred for as long as we loved one another, and that we did.

* * *

 

Shortly after that, you met my parents at their house, and they loved you, like I knew they would. And even though they were initially off-put by your dyed hair and nose ring and gauges and tattoos, they quickly caught on to the fact that our love was real, you were here for good, and that you had nothing but the purest, most love-filled intentions with me.

I never got to meet your parents, but you told me it was because “trust me, you don’t want to.” I believed you. I didn’t push you.

That night we laid in bed (your bed) staring at the ceiling, pressing gentle kisses to each other’s hands and talking when the topic of your parents came up again.

“Did something happen? With you and your parents?” I asked cautiously. Even though we had been dating for nearly a year, I still never wanted to overstep my boundaries.

You were silent for a while, and I instantly regretting even asking.

“J, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“No, no. It’s fine, really. It’s just, uh... I came out to them when I was twenty and they didn’t really accept it. They said that it was ‘too late’ for me to tell them something like that.” You sighed and shook your head, and a frown fell onto my face. “Whatever, it’s stupid.” You tried to make yourself seem sincere, but I could tell you cared at least a little.

“It’s not stupid. I love you, I want to hear what you have to say.” I rubbed your hand. You sat up and kissed my forehead, you knew those were my favorite types of kisses.

“It’s okay, Ty. Really. I’m just glad I have you. We can talk more about it another time.”

That night was gentle words of reassurance and soft touches and hands rubbing backs and falling asleep half-naked.

* * *

 

The next few months and years of our relationship passed by extremely quickly, anniversaries and holidays never forgotten but certainly breezed through. Still pure bliss.

By the time we were both twenty seven, you asked me to move in with you while we were cuddling on your couch.

“Really?” I was excited, this was _big_ . This meant it was _real,_ that we were at _that_ level of domesticism. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face.

“Yeah, I mean. You sleep over here most nights anyway, and we’ve been together for over two years, so why not?”

“Okay!” I hugged you, and it was somehow more intimate than a kiss.

* * *

 

The first night of us officially living together was probably my favorite night of my life. We went out to dinner together, then came home and shared a bath. The bath smelled like fresh flowers, courtesy of the bath bomb I had recently purchased.

You got into the tub first, and I watched you for a second, admiring your beauty in the form of long legs and toned arms as I listened to the soft music playing in the background and smiled at the candles you had set around the tub.

“You coming in?” The Smirk. You hadn’t used that on me in so long.

I stepped into the warm water and sat down between your legs, leaning back so my back was pressed to your warm chest. I tilted my head back onto your shoulder and closed my eyes. I felt you kiss my temple as you grabbed my hand gently. I breathed you in, I lived off of you.

After the bath, which was spent making bubble beards and washing each other’s hair, we stepped out together and dried off, making our way into your- _our_ bedroom in search of clothes. However, that plan went out the window when you turned me around by my hips and kissed me gently. The rest of the night went from there, standing in the middle of the room, completely naked, just having a good old-fashioned make-out session. We kissed for a long time, and when we felt we couldn’t kiss anymore, we kissed some more.

“We should do this more often,” I joked between kisses. You chuckled. I loved that chuckle.

And there was touching. So, _so_ much touching. But none of it was sexual, no, not this kind of touching. This kind of touching was us memorizing each other’s bodies and appreciating them. It was emotional and intimate and completely perfect. I fell in love with you ten times more that night.

* * *

 

After a year of living together, and after over three years of dating, you popped the question.

I was expecting it, to be honest. You were tense that morning, nervous. I found it endearing. So when you asked me if we could go to the park that day, the same park we had our first date in, I knew what it was about. But I went along with it, containing my emotions.

When we arrived at the park, we walked along that same path we did the first time. We walked and talked for hours again, and it was getting late. So, testing to see if you really were going to ask me, I spoke up.

“Hey, it’s getting late. We should get going.”

“Uh, yeah, Tyler... Just- hold on,” you said with a shaky breath.

“What?” I faked confusion.

“You know how much I love you, right?” You turned to face me and grabbed both of my hands in your own.

“Josh..”

“Seriously, you’re the most important thing in my life. I’m _so_ lucky to have you. From that day I first saw you walk into the coffee shop and walk out when you saw me, I knew I needed to know you,” I blushed. You smirked. “I want to make this short. So, what I’m trying to say is,” you paused, pulling a black velvet box out of your pocket and getting down on one knee. You opened the box and looked up at me.

“Tyler, will you marry me?” By this point I was bawling. I was crying hysterically but I still managed to nod my head enough to get the message across that _yes, I want to marry you, you idiot._

You gave me one of your big smiles, teeth and squinty eyes, before standing up, slipping the ring on my finger, and hugging me for what felt like forever. And I never stopped crying, because “husband” sounds so much better than “boyfriend” and we could buy a _house_ together and raise _kids_ together and grow _old_ together and do all of the things I’ve ever wanted together. I had been expecting the question, but I had never been able to anticipate the feeling I got from it.

At last, we pulled away, and you put your hands on the sides of my face, wiped the tears from my cheeks, and kissed my forehead, my nose, and then my lips. We stared at each other with stupid grins for a while. Your next words were my second favorite ones you had ever said to me.

“Wanna go get some coffee?”

So off we went to the coffee shop, and it was closed, but you had a spare key so we went in and you expertly made our favorite drinks. We sat down at a table, the same one we sat down at the time you took your break early to talk to me. We held hands across the table. We didn’t speak. You played with the ring on my finger, a small smile on your lips. _Beautiful_.

We walked the whole way home holding hands, still not saying anything. In fact, we never said anything until we undressed and laid on the bed, just looking up at the ceiling. And then, your next words were my absolute favorite you had ever said to me.

“You and me, Ty.” I grinned. You couldn’t see because it was dark, so I echoed back.

“You and me.”


End file.
